<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Pretense by hermionebellemae</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075877">Pretense</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionebellemae/pseuds/hermionebellemae'>hermionebellemae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Shell Cottage (Harry Potter), The Deathly Hallows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:08:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionebellemae/pseuds/hermionebellemae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was strange and exciting, openly flirting with Ron this way. But it had seemed that since having such a close brush with death, neither of them gave a damn about pretense anymore. It was pointless to continue to hide their true feelings when it felt as though their luck was running out."</p><p>Shell Cottage. Deathly Hallows missing moment. Romione.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pretense</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well folks, it finally happened. After ten years of being a hardcore, then casual, then back to hardcore Romione shipper, I have finally taken a stab at fanfic writing. Seemingly out of nowhere, I have dove headfirst into this passion project wherein I have completely written four (and counting) Deathly Hallows drabbles. If anyone is interested, please feel free to connect with me on Tumblr (@terrierandotter)! Please review and I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thought I might find you out here.” She smiled at the sound of his voice, turning around to see him fully as he came down the small sand dune with his hands deep in his pockets. He cheekily grinned at her as he approached, and she felt her heart skip slightly at his appearance. Hair characteristically disheveled and under-eyes deeper than she’d ever seen them, yet still looking as fit as ever as he reached her side.</p><p>“Was trying to get some fresh air,” she responded, her voice still slightly hoarse, “It can get a bit crowded in there sometimes.” </p><p>“No arguments there,” he responded with a faint degree of amusement. “S’about one goblin too many in that house.” </p><p>She laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh that she felt throughout her entire body. She squeezed her crossed arms closer to her chest as a breeze came from the otherwise still sea, and watched as he immediately peeled off his grey sweatshirt and handed it to her without a word. </p><p>“Thank you,” she murmured, pulling it over her head. She relished in its warmth. </p><p>“How are you feeling?” </p><p>She glanced sideways at him before answering, already knowing she wouldn’t be able to lie to him.</p><p>“Better,” she answered vaguely, “I’m not quite as sore as I was yesterday.”</p><p>He nodded, brow furrowed. “How’s...you know,” he briefly indicated to her throat, looking slightly uneasy.</p><p>“Oh,” she delicately touched the spot where she knew there to be a long, thin cut, “it doesn’t bother me much now.” </p><p>“Good.” He cleared his throat, looking very much like he had more to say. She got the impression that he was trying to tiptoe around her emotions, not wanting to directly allude to the horrific events that had led to them being here, at Bill and Fleur’s. Their stint at Malfoy Manor had been an undoubtedly traumatic experience, and she could see how heavily it had weighed on Ron. </p><p>She was incredibly shaken, yes, however, staying at Shell Cottage had also brought about a sense of peace that she had long been missing. This could have been the product of any number of factors: a warm bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads, the presence of friends and family for the first time in ages, and three home-cooked meals each day. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this safe and comfortable, certainly not since before their abrupt departure from the Burrow all those months ago. </p><p>Glancing over at him, she noted a fair amount of stubble coating his jawline, and instinctively reached out to ghost her fingers across his face. “You haven’t shaved lately.” </p><p>“Oh. Right.” He said, ears turning slightly pink. “Reckon I haven’t had the time.” </p><p>“It makes you look different. Older.” She mused, the tiniest smile on her lips.</p><p>“Yeah?” He chuckled, rubbing his hand over his cheek. </p><p>“I like it.” </p><p>“Maybe I’ll have to keep it around then.” </p><p>It was strange and exciting, openly flirting with Ron this way. But it had seemed that since having such a close brush with death, neither of them gave a damn about pretense anymore. It was pointless to continue to hide their true feelings when it felt as though their luck was running out. </p><p>Following these thoughts, she leaned into him, arms remaining crossed as she rested her cheek against his chest. He circled his arms around her back and held her to him, gently stroking her hair in a way that made her eyes droop and her knees weak. </p><p>“Are you tired?” He murmured. </p><p>“No.”</p><p>He leaned back slightly to look down at her, and saw that her eyes were closed. “Liar.” He chuckled. </p><p>“I am, but can’t we just stay out here a bit longer?”</p><p>“Of course we can.”</p><p>She didn’t know how much time they had left. But, she supposed, that if these were her last days, then spending them out here with Ron was a good place to start.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>